


Where To Turn

by RoyallyJeleanor



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, HTGAWM - Freeform, How to Get Away With Murder - Freeform, M/M, Post 3x01, coliver - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8169157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyallyJeleanor/pseuds/RoyallyJeleanor
Summary: The immediate aftermath of Connor and Oliver's breakup in 3x01.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first fic for HTGAWM so I hope you like it and I'm not too far off with the characters! This was written before 3x02 aired so I have no idea whether or not it will in any way resemble the storyline but this is my interpretation :)

As the door to 303 closed behind him Connor felt his legs wobble as his eyes blurred with moisture. He felt as if all the air had been torn from his body, his breathing shaky and uneven. As if his heart had been gnarled in his chest, damaged enough to cause him the most unbearable pain he’d felt in his life, but not enough to kill him. _Yet._

He stood there for a moment in silence, hoping beyond anything that this was all just a huge misunderstanding – that Oliver would reopen the door and take him in with open arms, murmuring reassurances about how this was all a big mistake. But that didn’t happen, and after a few minutes Connor felt any remaining hope drain rapidly from his body, along with all of his positive imaginings of what his future looked like.

Before tonight, whenever he thought of his future his mind was filled with bright images of a quaint house in the suburbs where the laughter could be heard even from outside and the love could be felt the moment you stepped inside the door. A place filled with giggling, bubbly children and a chocolate brown puppy, with eyes like saucers, happily following them around to catch all their dropped crumbs and receive their plentiful hugs and belly scratches. A place where Connor felt safe and secure and _loved_. The place where Oliver was. Home.

But now that image was gone, replaced by darkness and silence and loneliness.

Shaking his head to desperately try and dislodge the emptiness now burning through his thoughts Connor felt the tears escaping from his eyes and rolling softly down his cheeks. Squeezing his eyes shut he ran a shaking hand across his face to remove the tracks, took a deep, albeit unsteady breath, and began making his way down the corridor.

He had no idea where he was headed when he set off, his mind blank as he aimlessly began pacing the streets. There was only one place he ever really wanted to be nowadays. One place he called home. But even that place was inaccessible to him now. He didn’t know how long he walked for, but he kept going until his legs burned and his hair was soaked through from the rain that began to fall.

Connor wasn’t sure what made him turn and make his way slowly to Michaela’s flat, not even really processing his steps until he arrived at her door. As he rose his fist to knock on her white, immaculate door he noticed for the first time how his hands were wet and red, covered in marks from where he’s forced his fingernails into his palm to try and distract his mind. Sighing, he watched the white puff of his breath fill in the air in front of him and leant his head against the door as he knocked weakly. He dread to think what a state he looked like and what Michaela would say when she opened the door.

When the door remained closed and the corridor remained quiet for a few minutes Connor turned around to lean against the wall beside him. Now what?

He didn’t even realise he was sliding down the wall until he hit the floor with a soft thud, his legs giving in and letting him fall. The wall and floor were cold underneath him but he was surprised to feel them soothing, the cold matching the coldness he now felt inside him. As he wrapped his coat more firmly around him he slouched his head back against the wall, trying and failing to get his breathing under control.

He had nowhere else to go. Oliver was the person who Connor went to in times of distress, Oliver being able to give him comfort just by being nearby. He couldn’t face the mocky of Asher, the pity from Wes or the dismissal he would no doubt receive from Annalise. Connor and Michaela had been pretty close once, the only one of the Keating five who he would willingly call a friend, but after all the events of the past year they had drifted apart over summer. Needing to stay as disconnected from each other as possible in order to try and forget about the horrors they had experienced together.

As a heaving great sob racked his body Connor felt hot tears begin pouring down his face again and squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught of pain. His breathes were ragged, tearing through his lungs and burning his chest but as fresh memories of everything that the Keating five had been through filled his mind he knew that he deserved the pain.

Connor didn’t deserve Oliver. He didn’t deserve someone as kind and sweet as Oliver. Someone who brought him fresh coffee in bed in a morning and who snuggled close to him in his sleep, allowing Connor to press his icy feet to his to share his warmth. Clearly something in the universe had messed up allowing Connor so much time with him and now it had realised its mistake and was trying to fix it. Or maybe it was karma? He’d done unspeakably terrible things and so now he was being punished.

Michaela froze with her key halfway out of her bag, the message on her phone forgotten as she looked up at the figure sat in the corridor. At first she couldn’t work out who it was, panic spiking through her blood as she tried to gauge the best way to use her keys as a weapon. But then, so quiet that she almost missed it, she heard the slumped bundle of black material make a noise that sounded almost like a whimper and Conor’s eyes emerged.

‘Connor?’ she queried quietly, moving forward slowly as if she were approaching a startled animal. She was sure that the eyes belonged to Connor Walsh but she was having trouble matching them to the Connor she knew. The Connor who was snarky, cocky and fiercely competitive. No, these eyes were none of those things, these eyes were _broken._

Bending down as carefully as she could Michaela surveyed the man slumped before her, his coat soaked through and his hair matted, clinging to his forehead. ‘Connor what’s happened?’ she asked him gently.

It took Connor a while to focus his eyes on the blurry face in front of him, the moisture in his eyes removing to budge. When he tried to speak he found he couldn’t dislodge the lump that had formed in his throat either, his first attempt resulting in little more than a weak grunt. After attempting to unsuccessfully clear his throat Connor wet his lips and tried again, relieved that his next words were at least understandable, if not fully coherent.

‘Oliver. It’s over.’ As he said the words out loud for the first time he felt another sob rise in his throat and despite his best efforts to force it away he heard the almost hysterical noise that burst from his lips, an unpleasant weight settling in the pit of his stomach.

‘Come on,’ Michaela’s voice was soft and gentle in his ear as she reached out to find his hands. ‘Let’s go inside.’

Nodding as if he had a choice, Connor tried to stand on weak legs but Michaela had to quick grab onto his shoulders to support him as she ushered him inside, fumbling with her keys as she tried not to let his weight drop.

Before she let him sit on her pristine white sofa, she helped him out of his sodden jacket and wrapped him in a soft blanket, trying to push thoughts about the expensive cashmere getting ruined to the back of her mind. Somethings are more important.

‘I’m sorry to come here, I just didn’t know where else to go. I don’t want to ruin your night you can carry on as normal and just forget I’m here.’

At the sound of Connor’s rambling Michaela set her fierce gaze on him, ‘you don’t have to apologise Connor, you know that. What happened?’

The sigh that left Connor then sounded tormented and she could only watch as he burrowed himself further into the blanket.

Maybe it hadn’t been such a wise decision to come to Michaelas, he knew she would ask too many questions.

‘Ollie broke up with me,’ he whispered, feeling like an idiot as hot tears sprung to his eyes for what was probably the thousandth time in the last three hours. When Michaela tried to offer her words of condolence Connor shook his head firmly, cutting her off. ‘No, it’s good. He deserves better than me.’

Michaela knew that there was nothing he could respond to that. They’d all done horrible things and she sometimes found herself wondering if she actually deserved happiness now. Instead of offering words she sat down beside Connor and wrapped her arms around him carefully. The gesture felt weird at first, but once Connor wrapped his arms around her too and lay his head against her shoulder she felt a weight she didn’t know she had been carrying leave her.

After a few minutes she felt Connor fully relax, feeling heavier against her side. Smiling down at him slightly she finally let the hot tears of her own free, falling silently. They sat like that for a few peaceful moments, Connor sleeping and Michaela allowing herself a moment of relief from the pressure of staying strong.

When Connor awoke it took a few moments before his eyes would open, fighting against the early morning sun pouring in through the slightly open curtains. He squinted slightly as he forced himself to sit up, rolling out the kinks in his neck and shoulders. His head felt groggy and his eyes heavy and exhausted from a night of restless sleep. Michaela may know a thing or two about interior design but she didn’t know how to choose a comfortable couch.

He spent a few minutes staring out aimlessly across her living room, the memories of last night leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He’d left himself the most vulnerable he’d ever been in his life and the hopelessness he felt scared him. He needed to pull himself together and fast. Connor wanted nothing more than to race over to Oliver’s and beg him to change his mind, but he knew that Oliver needed more and the least he could do was respect his wishes. He knew that their breakup was going to come, Connor knew that Oliver would get sick of him eventually and realised he deserved more. He needed to accept what had happened, be thankful for the time he had somehow managed to get with Oliver and move on.

Connor knew in his heart that the last part was not going to happen any time soon, if at all, but ignoring his heart he rose from the couch and ran a hand hastily through his hair. It was time to start thinking with his head again. When had he let his heart start taking over?

Michaela awoke and carried out her morning routine as usual, ignoring the fact that there was a man asleep on her couch just as she was ignoring Asher’s array of texts. She pampered and preened herself and had her usual breakfast smoothie all ready to go when she realised that the sofa was now free, her blanket folded neatly over the back. AS she walked into the living room she noticed the sheet of paper placed on top of it, or more accurately the case notes for their latest client with Annalise which now had a message scrawled across the back.

_Thanks for letting me stay here last night. I won’t mention the tears of yours that landed on my arm if you don’t mention mine. After all, what’s another secret between friends?  
See you in class where I am going to continue to whoop your ass.  
Con _

Michaela smiled to herself as she re-read the note in her hands. Connor’s mask was evidently firmly back in position, and although she knew he was far from fine, she felt honoured that she was the one he had come to in his hour of need. Not that she’d ever let him know that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated. You can find me on tumblr at @RoyallyJeleanor :)
> 
> Please don't steal this work, I worked hard on it!  
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or pre-existing storylines.


End file.
